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  • Writer's pictureRebecca Mazzoni

September

We vacation with friends the first week of September. We go to the Outer Banks, rent an ocean front house, and spend a week with people that we don’t see often enough. I think of this trip as the end of summer. It’s often followed by hurricane drama, except when we’re unlucky, and it’s interrupted by hurricane drama. After this trip, the holiday season starts and my social calendar gets filled up, although usually not with all the same people. Not the same way. There is no other part of the year that is filled with lazy hours of casual conversation with opportunities for spontaneous discovery, the kind of conversations it was so much easier to have when young and unencumbered. That’s the real beauty of the beach. It’s an opportunity to roll back the clock, in a weird way, for a fleeting glimpse at a less responsible time. I wouldn’t want a steady diet of it, but it sure is nice for a little while.

Like Anakin Skywalker, I don’t like sand, but I love these people and I’m so happy to have the opportunity to spend time with them every year.

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